The Darkest Night
by thisfairyqueen
Summary: Batman/Bruce Wayne x Verity Dawson (OC) How can a man with many secrets let the one woman who sees right through him get away?
1. Chapter 1 - The Vision of Verity Iyer

"Vinny, are you ready yet? We're going to be late." Verity knocked on her brother's hotel door for what felt like the thousandth time. She heard him shout something about needing another few minutes, which they did not have. The two were in New Jersey to meet with their grandfather's attorney about his will. They had a reservation at a restaurant in Gotham, which - much to Verity's annoyance - they were already nearly twenty minutes late for. She knocked again, "Vincent!"

The door finally opened and Vincent Dawson stepped out. He flashed a smile at his older sister, adjusting his suit jacket. Verity frowned, linking her arm through his.

"How does it possibly take you longer than me to get dressed for dinner?" Verity questioned, leading them towards the elevator.

"Sorry, Ver. I'm just nervous."

"About what? Ms. Braxton just wants to go over grandfather's will. You're not in trouble, Vinny."

"I know, I know." He sighed and wet his lips, "Maybe nervous isn't the right word. I miss him. He and Grandma are the only parents I remember having. Reading his will… it… It makes it real. Y'know?"

Verity smiled sadly. Vincent had just turned four when their parents died. At eight years his elder, she remembered them well.

"It'll be alright, Vin. You've still got me."

The cab ride was shorter than she expected, but Verity was grateful. She didn't like to be late, which they already were by almost an hour. Inside the restaurant, Verity apologized profusely to Ms. Braxton for their tardiness.

"It is quite alright, Miss Dawson. And please, call me Ines. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to get started."

Vincent had a steak and a glass of root beer, while Verity chose chicken parmesan and a glass of wine. Ines ate nothing.

"Robert has left each of you half of one million dollars." Ines informed them, "There will be an estate sale this Friday and Saturday. Anything you two do not wish to keep will be sold or donated. The proceeds will then be split evenly between Gotham General, and the local orphanages. He does wish for the house to stay in the family, though moving to Gotham may not be necessary."

"But that's tomorrow." Vincent interrupted.

"Yes, your grandfather never liked to leave loose ends. There will be time in the morning before the sale for you and your sister to peruse the house."

"Oh, okay…"

"Vincent, it was your grandfather's understanding that you were planning to go to school for business, is that correct?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Upon your graduation, should you want it, there will be an opportunity to interview for a position at Wayne Enterprises. He worked there for many years, and Bruce Wayne expressed that he would be happy to meet with you when you are ready."

"Oh… oh wow."

"Verity, as you are twenty-four years old, you have the option to become Vincent's legal guardian until he turns eighteen. Should you decline, foster care can be arranged."

"Don't be ridiculous," Verity replied, "We're all we have left. It is absolutely out of the question for him to go anywhere else."

Ines merely nodded, "I'll have the paperwork sent to you soon as I can. He has also written each of you a letter that you can read on your own time." She handed them each an envelope sealed with Robert Dawson's crest, "If you have any questions you can contact me through the firm, or email me directly."

The trio finished their meal in relative silence. Vincent asked a few questions about Wayne Enterprises and Ines answered what she could. Verity remained quiet, glad to not be the center of attention. When the check came, Ines insisted that the firm would pay, and wished the Dawson siblings goodnight. Vincent noticed that Verity did not shake Ines' hand when they left.

"It happened again, didn't it?" He asked once they were outside. Verity nodded, not saying a word. "Want to tell me about it?"

"I... think I may need something stronger than red wine first."

"C'mon. I think I saw a Quik Stop down the street. Let's get you some vodka and strawberry lemonade."

"Don't forget the fudge stripes."

"I could never!"

* * *

"So tell me," Vincent asked, stuffing a cookie in his mouth, "How bad was it?"

They were back in Verity's hotel room. She sat in the middle of the bed, a glass of strawberry lemonade mixed with vodka in one hand, and a handful of potato chips in the other. Vincent sat in the chair, drinking plain lemonade. A box of fudge stripe cookies on his lap.

"It wasn't _terrible._ " Verity said, "I mean, on a scale of prostitution to murder it's like a three."

"That doesn't make any sense. Come on, Ver. Spill. What's the lawyer's big secret?"

"Which big secret?"

"No way!? I want all of the dirty details, obviously. Spill it, sister." He threw the box of cookies at her, nearly knocking over the bottle of vodka on the nightstand.

"Way to go, Vince. You could be a professional baseball player."

"Shut up. I was definitely aiming for the vodka."

Verity rolled her eyes, trying not to laugh. She refreshed her drink and picked up a cookie that hadn't fallen on the floor.

"Okay. Ines worked as a stripper to pay for law school. There. I said it. Happy now?"

"Whaaaaat?!" He gasped, "No fricken' way. She seemed like such a prude. The matronly dress, high collar, long sleeves… I guess first impressions really aren't everything when you're around."

"It isn't the worst secret to keep," Verity shrugged, "But this whole 'clairvoyance' thing is really annoying sometimes. Especially with a photographic memory." She shuddered, "I just wish I could find someone out there with the same gift-y thing. I'm hoping grandpa's letter might have some information in it, but it's unlikely. I'm not sure he even knows about it."

"Is that my cue to leave? Because it sounds like that's my cue to leave."

"No, you can stay. I'll read it in the morning."

"Can I ask a dumb question?"

"If you must."

"Why did you become a nurse, then? If you get your - I guess visions would be the right word? - Anyway, if you see their memories and know their secrets just by touching a person… Why get a very hands-on job?"

"Not all secrets are bad, Vincent." Verity said, looking out the window to the cold city streets below, "Mom was a nurse. So was her mother during the second world war. It just felt right I guess. Besides, it does help when some stubborn drug addicts won't tell you what they've taken. And I do wear gloves ninety-percent of the time. I only get them through skin to skin contact."

"Wasn't Nana Iyer a clairvoyant, too?" Vincent asked, "Also, weren't you named after her?"

"Yes, and yes." Verity nodded, "She was raised by a gypsy tribe in Romania. When the war broke out she escaped to London and became a nurse. She married David Iyer and they came here after the war. Mom didn't talk about them were in their forties when mom was born, and her father died before she even met our dad. Nana Iyer died when I was four. I didn't develop my, er, gift, until I was around ten, I think. Although I imagine that Nana knew I had it before she died. Mom told me once that Nana had a vision on the day I was born. She wouldn't say much more than that, though."

"Maybe she was waiting until you were old enough to understand it? Like a weird, coming-of-age story. Except that it backfired because she's also very dead."

"That was a terrible joke," Verity said, laughing despite herself.

"Then why are you laughing?"

Verity rolled her eyes and threw a pillow at her brother. He dodged easily and threw it back. Setting down her empty glass, she picked up another pillow, got off the bed and smacked Vincent in the face with it.

"Oh it is _so_ on." Vincent said, reaching for a pillow to fight with.

* * *

Verity woke up on a pile of pillows, wrapped in a blanket. She didn't remember falling asleep, but she appreciated her brother's effort to make sure she was comfortable. Although, she would have preferred to be on the bed instead of the floor. After a quick shower, she washed her face and dressed in a pair of skinny jeans and a blousy top.

"I hope you're decent, because I'm already in." Vincent said, opening the door to her room. He flopped onto her bed and turned the TV on.

"Did you take my key card again?" Verity stepped out of the bathroom, shoving her feet into a pair of red heels.

"Define _take_."

" _Vincent._ "

"Okay, fine. I took your extra card and swapped it with mine. What if it's an emergency and I need you but you're not answering your phone?"

Verity sighed and kissed his forehead, leaving a smudge of red lipstick. "You're my baby brother. I'll always answer the phone when you call. Promise. Besides, we'll only be in Gotham through Sunday. Then it's back to Boston."

He rubbed at the red mark on his forehead. "Okay, but next time maybe do that _before_ you put lipstick on. Hey, look at this." Vincent pointed to the TV. It was playing a news story about Gotham's masked hero, the Batman.

" _Gotham's masked vigilante has saved the day once again, rescuing a local antique shop owner from the the prying hands of the Penguin..._ " The story went on to detail some of the items Penguin had tried to steal.

"Think he'll try something at the estate sale tomorrow?" Vincent asked.

"He's in _jail_ , Vince. I'm going up to look through the house before people show up to buy things. You can come if you want."

"Nah, I'll go later. Lemme know if you find anything I might want, though."

"Suit yourself," Verity pulled on an olive green duster and grabbed her handbag, "But don't spend all day in front of the TV. I know you have homework to do."

"Yes, mother." Vincent immediately regretted his words seeing the look on his sister's face, "Sorry, I didn't mean -" The door slammed behind her, "- Shit."

The cab ride to Dawson Manor was much longer than Verity ever remembered it being, so she took the time to read Robert's letter.

 _My dearest granddaughter,_

 _I hope this letter finds you well. Then again, if you are reading this it means that I am no longer with you. You have suffered much loss, my child, but you never let it break you. It is an admirable quality to be kind and selfless in the face of darkness. I believe you get that from your mother. She was an incredible woman, and your grandmother and I were overjoyed to call her our daughter-in-law. We could not have picked a better woman for our only son. You and Vincent brought such joy into our lives after their passing. It is my wish for you that one day you may feel that joy. Dawn will break. The darkness will pass._

 _Both of your grandmothers and I were in the hospital waiting room together on the day that you were born. Verity confided in us that she had had a vision of your life. She knew you would be like her. Be clairvoyant. She told us about her gypsy family. That many of them had this power, but she was unsure if anyone else had survived the war. All the information we have is in a book locked in my desk in the study. I had hoped to give it to you under better circumstances, but alas, life has decided otherwise. Use it in good health, beloved._

 _Don't be too hard on Vincent. He may be young, but he has a good head on his shoulders and would go to the ends of the earth to protect you._

 _Love,_

 _Grandpa_

 _Robert Arthur Dawson_

Verity sighed, folding the letter back up. Vincent was only sixteen. It was her job to protect him, not the other way around. But it was true that as they had gotten older they took care of each other. He was old enough now to look out for her where he could. Vincent had even begged to come with her to Boston. Grandfather had begrudgingly obliged and submitted the paperwork for him to transfer schools. Sometimes Verity wondered if her baby brother knew something she did not. Though there was one thing she knew at that moment; she had to find that book.

* * *

"Another job well done, Master Bruce." Alfred said, setting a tray with a bowl of oatmeal and a mug of coffee in front of him.

"Thank you, Alfred." Bruce removed his mask and took a long drink of the coffee. "Anything important today? Or can I get some sleep?"

"The Dawson Estate sale begins this afternoon, sir. I believe there are items of interest that may catch the eyes of some of the Batman's adversaries. Perhaps Bruce Wayne could make an appearance? After all, sir, you have been known to collect antiques. It would also be good publicity to give your respects to Robert's grandchildren since you worked closely with the man."

"An excellent idea. But first, a shower."

Bruce took his time washing off the night. While the warm water ran over his figure, he contemplated what went on that night. He went over every detail in his mind, reevaluating his actions to create a better plan for the next time he faced Penguin. The man's cronies weren't to difficult to take down, but Cobblepot was clever. The Batman would just have to be more so. Turning off the water and stepping out into the steam-filled bathroom, Bruce wrapped a fluffy towel around his waist. He lounged in his bedroom for a little while, checking on WE logistics, and also his personal e-mails. Vanderveer was having a fifteenth - or was it sixteenth? - birthday party and would like to know if dear cousin Brucey could come. Bruce replied that he would try his best to be there, but would certainly send a gift if he couldn't make it.

Sometime that afternoon, Alfred roused him from a nap, bidding him to get dressed so they wouldn't miss the estate sale. Bruce dressed quickly in a pair of navy dress slacks and white button down. He rolled his sleeves up, ran a comb through his hair, pulled on a pair of tan oxfords and was downstairs and outside by the time Alfred had pulled the car around.

"Wallet, phone, keys…Keys. Alfred where are my -" Alfred tossed them to him, "Thank you." Bruce snatched the keys out of the air and slid into the backseat. He had admittedly never been to Robert Dawson's home, despite having known the family for many years. Robert had worked for Wayne Enterprises for as long as Bruce could remember. The man had even come to his parents' funeral.

"Alfred," Bruce said, "Remind me to be a little more invested in the lives of the people closest to Bruce Wayne."

"Duly noted, sir. Does this mean you will be attending young Master Vanderveer's birthday?"

"I could show up for an hour. Maybe I'll bring a date and make it interesting."

"Of course, sir."

Dawson Manor wasn't as much of a manor or estate as it was a large house on a few acres of land. Bruce remembered hearing Robert tell someone that he only kept what he needed, except the house. It had been in the family for at least four generations. It was the man's childhood home. Bruce understood why he wouldn't want to leave it.

"Shall we go in, sir?" Alfred opened the car door, "I do believe it would be difficult to see the layout of the house from out here."

Bruce chuckled, stepping into the warm September afternoon. He followed the small crowd of people inside, ignoring their whispers and stares. Sometimes being the orphaned-billionaire quote-en-quote "Son of Gotham" got to be quite the nuisance. Nevertheless, he wore the mask of Bruce Wayne, returning the stares with a charming smirk or a wink at a pretty girl. One particular girl had her phone out, so he plucked it out of her hands and added the number of a phone he rarely answered, telling the girl to call him sometime and fully intending not to pick up. The girl looked like she might faint. Alfred rolled his eyes and ushered Bruce inside.

"One day, Master Bruce, such antics will get you in a heap of trouble."

"Oh they already have, Alfred." He said, "They already have."

After walking through the house for a while, Bruce wandered the grounds. There was a small garden out back, an oak tree standing tall at the center. He noticed a pair of bare feet dangling over one side of a branch and as he drew closer he heard a woman's voice.

"...Don't argue with me, Vincent...You're not a millionaire. You have five hundred thousand dollars. Which, by the way, you can't touch until you turn eighteen. You're going. End of story."

Bruce cleared his throat and rounded the tree, "Not interrupting am I?" He noticed a pair of heels on the ground and looked up to see a young woman sitting in the branches, an unamused expression on her face.

"I gotta go. We can talk about this when I get back. And do your damn homework." She said into the phone. She turned her attention to Bruce, "Sorry, my brother. Can I help you?"

"I take it you're Robert's granddaughter," He held up a hand to help her down. The woman hesitated, then took his hand and jumped down. Her landing wasn't exactly graceful, but she didn't lean on him at all. Soon as she was steady on her feet she pulled her hand back.

"Verity Dawson."

"I'm Bruce."

"I know who you are. You should get back inside. There are some great classic books in the upstairs bedroom. Oh, and don't forget to look in the study." Verity picked up her heels and walked back in the direction of the house, calling her brother on her way.

"Vince?"

" _What now? You see a ghost?"_

"No, Vincent. Not a ghost. A bat."

 **|| Hey loves! Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the first installment of The Darkest Night (tbh the title will probably change six times). Chapter Two will be up next week and before you ask: Yes. The Bat!Family will be included. Until next time - Tia**


	2. Chapter 2 - Joyful Noise

The unkindness of a blaring alarm clock pulled Verity out of a dreamless sleep. Reaching a hand out from under the covers, she silenced the alarm. Another five minutes passed before she got out of bed. She had never been a morning person but early shifts at the hospital couldn't be avoided. Vincent wouldn't be for hours yet, but still in time for Saturday morning cartoons. They had shared the tradition before Verity left for nursing school and he still upheld it every weekend without fail.

She started a pot of coffee before heading to the bathroom for a shower. She didn't really need one, but rather saw it as a good way to wake up in the morning. When she returned, Vincent was seated at the kitchen table.

"What're you doing up so early?"

"I think you mean what am I doing up so late."

"Okay. What're you doing up so late? And with my coffee," she swiped the mug from him, "You don't need caffeine at three in the morning."

Vincent ran a hand through his blond hair, making it stick up in a few places. He sighed, rubbed his eyes and wet his lips. "Can't sleep. Haven't been really."

"Since when?" Verity asked, sliding a bowl of Cheerios across the table to him. He stopped the bowl from spilling into his lap and ate a small spoonful.

"It's hard to pinpoint when exactly. I think it was before grandpa's funeral."

"I'm sorry, Vincent."

"Can you like, Varma Kalai me to sleep or something?"

"Absolutely not."

Vincent sighed and finished his cereal. He called the tone she used her "judge voice". Whatever she said was final. Arguing was futile. Verity told him once when he brought it up that their mother had used a similar tone whenever she got into trouble. He wished he could remember his parents.

* * *

Bruce remembered traveling to Boston once before with his father. He had been around nine or ten at the time. Thomas Wayne had been called to a hospital for a consultation and Martha thought it would be good for the two to spend some quality time together. Today he was in Boston for two reasons: Wayne Pharmaceuticals had entered the trial phase for a new drug and was taking applicants from around the country, and Verity Dawson worked at one of the hospitals on his list. Lucius Fox, Bruce's business manager and close friend, handled such visits on a regular basis.

"You sure you don't want me to go?" Lucius had asked.

"Of course you can go," Bruce had replied, "I just want to go with you. For science."

"For science is a terrible reason. That's not even a valid excuse, Bruce."

"Alright, fine. I'm going to Boston for a girl."

Lucius laughed for a good five minutes before he could answer. "A girl? What, not enough women in Gotham?"

"Shut up, Lucius."

"I mean, we'll be happy to have you along, but really?"

"I said shut up."

Now he, Lucius, and a representative from WP were taking a tour of the hospital. They had just been through the pediatric ward and were heading to the OR floor when they passed by a nurses station. Bruce spotted a familiar face standing at the counter, filling out paperwork.

"You gonna go talk to her, or are you just gonna stare from here?" Lucius asked, noticing the look on Bruce's face.

"I wasn't staring. Come on, we're going to miss the OR floor. I want to observe a procedure or two if we can spare the time."

Bruce forced Lucius past the nurses station, flashing a smile and winking at the nurse behind the desk. She stared at him as he hurried by and quickly turned to Verity.

"Girl, look at him go…"

Verity rolled her eyes and turned her head to see who was going towards the elevator.

"Bruce?" There was no hiding the surprise in her voice. Luckily, he was too far away to hear her. Still, she ducked behind the station.

"Girl, what is your problem? He is fine as hell. You know him or something?"

"Kind of? It's complicated. Nanette, do you think he saw me?"

"With that bright orange hair of yours? Probably. Look I don't know how you know him, but you should talk to that fine piece of man. Do it for us. Do him for us."

"Nan!"

"What? We all know it has been too long since you have had any kind of fun. Man-candy like that is perfect for a one off." She jabbed her thumb in the direction of the elevator, "Or a more-than-one-off."

"I have patients to check on." Verity darted out from behind the desk, but Nanette caught her arm.

"Nuh-uh, girlfriend."

Verity's eyes went wide. She looked from Nan's hand on her arm to Nan's face and back again. Oh fu- She couldn't even finish the thought as a vision of her friend and one of the orderlies undressing in a supply closet flashed in her mind.

"Verity? Hey! Earth to Dawson." Nanette let go of her arm and waved a hand in front of her face, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Bad sushi?" She bluffed. "But seriously, Ms. Carlson has been buzzing for the last five minutes. If no one checks on her she'll try to get out of bed again and I'm not resuturing her again."

"You," Nanette snapped her fingers at a passing intern, "Check on the lady in two-twenty. You," She turned to Verity, "Don't even like sushi. Come on, we're going to lunch. We've both been here since three in the morning and I, for one, am starving."

"Nan," Verity tried to protest, but she couldn't stop her friend from dragging her down to the cafeteria.

* * *

"How do you kind of know him?" Nanette asked in between bites of salad. They were seated in the courtyard, just outside the cafeteria.

"It's really not as complicated as I like to think that it is," Verity sighed, poking at her french fries, "I've actually known Bruce Wayne most of my life. Although I don't think he remembers me."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up. You mean that hottie with a body is the Bruce Wayne? Orphaned at twelve, multi-billionaire Bruce Wayne? How did I not see that…"

"Well, yeah. I was born in Gotham. We were in the same kindergarten room. He wet the bed at nap-time."

"Oh. My God. Tell me everything. I need to know. I will literally die if you don't tell me."

"That's not true and you know it." Verity smiled, "You're such a drama queen, Nanette. But because you are my best friend and I love and trust you, I will tell you what I remember about growing up in Gotham.

"And going to school with a billionaire?"

"Yes, yes. Like I said, I was born in Gotham. However, I actually lived in California until I was around four or five. We came back to Gotham after my maternal grandmother died. Bruce and I went to school together from kindergarten through seventh year. We were in the same classes now and then, but we were never close. Not even friends. I'm not entirely sure he even knew my name. After his parents died, he left. My parents died in a train crash not long after that, but I didn't have the luxury of escaping high society until after graduation. I came here for nursing school and I decided to stay. As far as I know, Bruce has been back in Gotham for a few years. We reconnected at the estate sale. But honestly Nanette, I don't care to go back."

"Why not?" Nan's question was sincere. She had spent most of her life in Boston, and high society intrigued her. Her favorite show had been Gossip Girl for a very long time.

"Well for one thing everyone is in your business all the time. You constantly have to wear a mask and hide your true feelings. It's all about pettiness and passive aggressive parties. It's exhausting." Verity finished her fries. Sighing, she leaned back in her chair. She crossed her arms, a somber expression on her face, "And Gotham? It's a city ruled by Death. He just takes and he takes and he takes. I know that dying is inevitable, I mean, I'm a goddamned nurse. But Gotham has taken everything from me. Why would I want to go back to that?"

Verity didn't see Bruce again until late in the afternoon. He and Doctor Cox, the chief of surgery, were speaking just out of earshot. She watched them for a moment while she put away a stack of charts. Nanette sat nearby, eyes locked on the clock as she swiveled from side to side in the chair. Both of them were ready to go home for the day, but Verity had decided on busy work to try and make the time go faster.

"He's hot." Sadia walked over to the nurses station and perched on the edge of the counter. The young doctor had an apple in one hand and a clipboard in the other. She took a bite of her apple and with a full mouth asked, "Why do I recognize him though?"

Nanette answered before Verity could, "That's Bruce Wayne. Billionaire from Gotham."

"Ech. Billionaires aren't my type. Too snotty. What do you think, Ver?"

Verity snapped to attention, dropping a few of the charts. They clattered on the tile, drawing the attention of Dr. Cox and Bruce, and anyone else nearby.

"He's cute, I guess," She mumbled, stooping to pick up the fallen charts.

"Sorry, what was that?" Nan prodded, raising her brows at Verity.

Before she could answer, Dr. Cox made his way over and chided Sadia for sitting on the counter.

"Doctor Nadir, that is not a chair. Nurse Jackson, instead of sitting around and doing nothing, perhaps you could help Nurse Dawson pick up this mess? Or check on your patients?"

Sadia stood, biting into her apple. She winked at Verity and Nanette as she skipped away. In the direction of Bruce Wayne.

"Hey. My friend thinks you're cute." She told him as she sidled past him, making sure to point at the red-haired nurse with a grumpy look to her. He was a bit confused at first, but then smiled. He didn't need to be back in Gotham for patrol for another few hours and hopefully he could convince Verity to go for an early dinner. Or coffee. Or whatever she wanted, really.

* * *

"Ugh, I'm so ready for a nap." Verity shouldered her bag, "I do hope Vincent hasn't burned the house down."

"How is your brother, anyway?" Nanette asked, swiping her card to clock out.

"He's okay." She swiped her own keycard and followed Nan outside, "He hasn't been sleeping. This morning he asked me to use his pressure points to knock him out, the poor lamb."

"Right, right. The Indian massage-fighty thing. And I'm guessing you said no in your usual Judge Verity fashion?"

"That's not what its called or even is. I don't know what you're talking abou-Ack!" She tripped over a raised spot on the sidewalk and stumbled forward. Unfamiliar arms caught her around the waist and pulled her up before she could hit the ground.

"Are you alright, Miss Dawson?" Bruce asked, dropping his hands once she was steady on her feet. Nanette snickered.

"I-yes. Yeah. Yes. I'm fine."

Bruce smiled at her, his blue eyes crinkling at the edges, "Good! I'm glad to hear it. Can I interest you ladies in a cup of coffee?"

"I have a puppy to feed. See you Monday, Verity." Nanette flashed a pearly white grin and winked, walking towards her car. Verity looked from Nanette to Bruce to down at her hands and back up to Bruce.

"Thank you, but I should really be getting home. I love my brother, but he gets restless and can't be left alone for to long. Much like Nan's puppy."

"In that case, may I walk you to your car?"

"I actually live close enough to walk." Verity switched her bag from one shoulder to the other. She chewed on her bottom lip, debating about whether or not to let him accompany her home.

"Very well. I insist on walking you home." Bruce stuck out an elbow, offering her his arm. She sighed, rolled her eyes, and took his arm.

"Please tell me you don't walk to work in the middle of the night?" Bruce asked, noting her petite frame.

"Well no, I don't. Nan and I usually work the same shifts, so she gives me a ride." Verity laughed. "I can, however, take care of myself. I studied Wing Chun and Varma Kalai. I might be short but I'm scrappy as fuck. Sorry - I really need to stop swearing. It's such a bad habit. And now I'm rambling. Another bad habit. Shit. Shoot! Sorry?"

"I don't mind." He chuckled. He liked the sound of her laugh. It was silvery and light and full of joy, "I'd rather you talk than me. My life is full of boring meetings and galas I don't want to go to. I'm sure the life of a nurse is very exciting."

"I don't know about that. People puke on me a lot. My feet always hurt no matter how comfortable my shoes are at the start of the day. Sick people are usually really mean - which I can't fault them for, I mean they are sick and injured! - but every now and then there are nice patients. Sometimes I even get a thank you card. I've seen a lot of really nasty shit. I've helped deliver babies and I've held people as they died. Oh, my apartment is right over here." Verity pointed out a three-story building one block further ahead, "Like I said, close enough to walk."

"I believed you," Bruce smiled at her as they walked, "I have to go back to Gotham tonight, but I should be back on Wednesday to see two other hospitals in the area. Would you like to go for dinner that evening?"

"Bruce Wayne, are you asking me on a date?" She sounded amused, but he hoped she would say yes.

"I suppose that I am. What do you say? Pick you up at six? After all, I do know where you live now."

She laughed again, "Way to be creepy." Verity thought about what Nanette had said. Nan was right as always. It had been a long time since she had gone on a date. After Vincent moved in she had set that part of her life aside. "I think I'm working a double on Wednesday, but I'll check."

Bruce couldn't answer before Verity opened the door to her apartment. Vincent was in basketball shorts and a t-shirt. A bottle in one hand and a slice of pizza in the other. Verity couldn't see what he had been drinking, but it didn't look good. The teenager dropped his pizza and pointed,

"Holy shit! Batman's in my house!"

 **|| this is so late and I am so sorry! but worry not! I have already started the next chapter! I hope you guys enjoyed and thanks so much for reading!**


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